Brothers in Arms Philosopher's stone
by PsychicOtaku182
Summary: It's Harry's eleventh birthday, but he's not living with the Dursleys. What happens when Harry spends six years in a loving home? Learning how to fight with swords? And ride Horses!HPxGW
1. Chapter 1

Yay! I finally got around to posting this! This is sort of a sidelines story, so that means I'll update it when I can, but I won't bend over backwards to get new chapters up.

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER! this is the only time I'm saying this in this fanfiction.

Honestly, if I owned it, I wouldn't be on fanfiction

* * *

"Albus, Albus

"Albus, Albus!" Minerva McGonagall dashed frantically into the headmaster's office waving a piece of paper, "Albus, look! Those Muggles wrote that Harry no longer lived with them, hadn't since he was five and that the boy could rot for all they care. Look!"

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry took the piece of paper, which was the first page of Harry's Hogwarts letter and read the scratchy writing on the back.

_Freaks,_

_There is no Harry Potter at this residence. The ungrateful little brat has not lived under our roof in near-bout six years. We are glad he is gone and will never take the worthless little freak back into our home again. He can rot on the streets for all we care. The world would be better off without him and all the rest of you._

_The Dursleys_

Albus shook his head. He had always hoped that Lily had been over exaggerating when she said that her sister hated her but it seemed that, if anything, it had been an understatement. Severus, who had been in the office talking to Albus about the upcoming term when Minerva burst in, read the letter that Albus handed to him. As he read, his lips curled with disdain. Minerva did not envy the Muggles should they ever meet Severus Snape in a dark alley. Having had a less then perfect childhood himself, Severus was notorious for his ill temper when it came to abusive guardians.

"I suggest," Albus said, standing wearily up from his desk, "that we find young Harry and place him in a proper home, provided of course that he is not already in one. Minerva, if you will have the Book write up his address please, we will be off."

"Of course, Albus." The black haired witch sprinted down the stairs only to return with two envelopes in hand.

"Albus, it seems Harry is living with a family called Willis. Their child is also going, a Michael David Willis it said."

"Very well, let us go and pay the Willis' a visit, shall we?" And with that, the three teachers flooed out of Hogwarts to Number 10 Privet Drive and then walked the remaining way to Willis Manor.

It was a short time later that the teachers arrived at the Manor, home of Sir Edward Wills, his wife, Lady Guinevere Willis, and their son, Michael Willis. Also living at the Manor was eleven year-old Harry Potter. The teachers made to start forward again towards the door of the house when two boys came riding through on horse back, edgeless practice swords in hand.

The elder of the two, though they were mere months apart, had fair skin, wavy black hair that came to the base of his shoulder blades that was tied back with a strip of leather and brilliant green eyes. This was Harry. His companion was slightly tan, with shoulder length brown hair that curled at the ends and was also tied back with a strip of leather, and hazel eyes. This, they assumed, was Michael. This was proven as the boys drew closer while sparring.

"Engárde, Harold!" The younger cried as he thrust at Harry who ducked the sword before releasing the saddle, dumping Michael onto the ground. He pulled up to the younger boy who was getting up and with a soft word, commanded his horse to gently place its hoof on the boy's back.

"Do you yield Michael, or must this defeat be painful?" He spoke firmly, at hint of mirth in his green eyes.

"I, Michael David Willis, do honorably yield to my brother in arms, Harold 'Harry Potter' Willis." Michael intoned, before getting to his feet as the horse removed its hoof.

"Good. Now, so not to be rude, you take Aragorn and Spartacus back to the stables and ask your mum to put tea on as we have guests." Harry turned to face the professors with a bow. "My apologies for making you wait. I do beseech you your forgiveness and implore you to allow me to extend unto you what hospitality that the house of Willis may offer." He stood up and offered his arm to Professor McGonagall who took it gratefully before they began their trek to the House.

"Harry, I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Albus said, before motioning to Severus and Minerva. "This is Severus Snape, Potions professor and Head of Slytherin house, and Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor house. I am sure you have many questions but if you could hold them for a little while, I will explain everything to you and young Mr. Willis, as he will also be attending."

"Very well, I can wait. However, I hope you don't mind waiting, as it will take several minutes for tea to be ready. If you would follow me, I'll be happy to give you a tour of the grounds."

"That sounds marvelous, don't you agree, Severus?" The twinkle in the old man's eyes was near blinding as they followed the boy. This was the perfect opportunity to learn about Harry's life.

Harry led them around towards the back of the manor, for it was indeed a manor, situated some 200 kilometers from the area of Surrey in a lush, green, almost Irish country side. The manor sat on some sprawling 50 acres of land, not including the land that the buildings took up, which all in all was about five acres.

"Willis Manor is entirely self-sufficient, with ten acres devoted entirely to the raising of fruits and vegetable and another ten devoted to various types of livestock, such as chickens, pigs, a few turkeys, and the like. There is also eighteen acres of land devoted to Willis manors four horses and two ponies. Ten acres of it is devoted to the study and practice of such combat arts as archery, swordplay, jousting, and Oriental fighting arts. The remaining two acres is for relaxation, and as such has a pool for the summer times, which doubles as an ice rink in the winter, a small rock wall for climbing and an area for family picnics. As I mentioned earlier, the fifty acres does not include the land on which any building sits. There is the main house, with it's twenty-two bedrooms, thirteen bathrooms, nine half bathrooms, library, living room, dining room, kitchen, attic, basement, wine cellar, ball room, and mud room. The second house, which is the servants quarters has thirteen bedrooms, nine bathrooms, four half bathrooms, kitchen, living room, dining room, mud room, and laundry room. There are also the stables, gym, garage, two sheds, and a single room building for indoor picnics."

"That's a fair bit of land." Minerva remarked, looking out at the grounds.

"It is, isn't it?" Harry replied, and his companions saw a light of pride and childish happiness as he looked out as well.

"Harry, if you don't mind my asking how is you came to be living here instead of with your relatives?" Albus questioned.

"Well, when the Willis' were fencing in their yard, they had to find some place to exercise their horses and ponies. There's a park not far from Privet Drive, a wilderness park of sorts, where you can ride horses and bikes and such. My aunt often took my cousin there and rather than leave me alone to 'blow up the house' she often took me as well. When we arrived, she usually told me to be back at the car by a certain time and then send me off on my own. She didn't want people to think that we were related. So, after awhile, I knew the park pretty well, then the Willis' started coming and I knew where the horse tracks were and told them. Michael was my age and was the first kid who didn't make fun of my glasses or oversized clothes. One day, we were playing together at one of the playgrounds when Dudley, that's my cousin, decided that he wanted to pick on Michael. Michael's parents were about to set him straight when I stood up for Michael and got a black eye for my efforts.

By this time, Aunt Petunia had heard the commotion and she arrived in time to see Mr. Willis ply his riding crop to Dudley's rear while Mrs. Willis took care of Michael's and my injures. Uncle Vernon was with her that day. When he heard who Mr. Willis was, he was willing to ignore it, at least until Mr. Willis told him that his methods of childrearing were severely lacking, one child was a spoiled brute, the other an underfed urchin who thankfully had manners. Mr. Willis and his wife told the Dursley's in no uncertain terms that they were taking me home with them, that I was never living at #4 again and that if they asked for so much as a penny in compensation, the Willis' would take them to court on counts of child abuse, child neglect and attempted assault on Mr. Willis. Uncle Vernon tried to box him, tried being the key word. So they brought me here. Mu- Mrs. Willis insists on calling me Harold and Da- um, Mr. Willis makes sure that I have all the opportunities that Michael has and Michael is my brother in all but blood. My brother in arms, you might say."

"You think of them as family, don't you Harry?" Albus said, a kind twinkle in his gray blue eyes.

"Yes sir, I do. They're the only family I have, sir. They do things for me that my relatives never did. They make sure I'm fed, clothed, that I'm safe and that I don't want for the necessities in life. They even treat me to things, like sweets and toys when I was younger. I mean, look at Spartacus, my horse! I wouldn't be allowed to even touch him if he belonged to the Dursley's. Here, though, he's my mount, and one of my dearest friends. There's also Hippocrates, Aunt Petunia would have turned me out if she caught me talking with a snake-"

"You can talk to snakes?" Severus interrupted the boy.

"Well, yes. I suppose you could say that. It sounds just like English to me, but…"

"To others it sounds like hissing." Dumbledore finished. Harry nodded.

"Anyway, I'm happy here. I mean, yeah, I don't like everything but it's the little things, like the fact my brother's a slob, or having to eat all of my dinner before I can have any of the cobbler that's for dessert. Normal things that kids dislike."

"Harold! Tea's ready, dear!" A light feminine voice floated from the house.

"That'll be Mum, I mean…"

"It's quite alright, Harry. I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind at all." Dumbledore said softly, a kind smile on his face. Harry relaxed.

"Coming Mum!"

"Just hurry love!"

"We'd better get inside. Mum hates to wait on others when it's tea time." Harry said with a small laugh and together, they headed into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two, hope you like it!

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Harry led them into a comfortable parlor, in which sat the boy they had seen earlier and two adults. Sir Edward Willis was a tall tan man, with broad shoulders, wavy brown hair like his son's, a well-trimmed mustache and goatee and kind hazel eyes. His wife, Guinevere, was fair, with strawberry blonde hair, and laughing sky blue eyes.

"Professors, this is my mum, Guinevere, dad Edward, and my brother Michael. These are Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall." Harry introduced them with a bow before sitting down and accepting a cup of tea from his mother after the Professors had sat down.

"A pleasure to meet all of you." Edward said, shaking their hands before joining his wife on the couch.

"And you, Mr. Willis. As your son said, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now, there is a magical world, right along side this one, Mr. Willis and its inhabitants are the things of Muggle legends, Muggles being non-magical people. Mr. Willis, your sons have been accepted into our school and we would like to help you adjust to this by taking you to buy their school supplies in Diagon Alley." Snape stared at Dumbledore, before looking to the sky as if asking for help.

"Wizardry, you say? Well, I suppose that would explain a lot." Mr. Willis said, thoughtfully. "What do you think, darling? Shall we go with them?"

"Why not?" Mrs. Willis replied. "Will the boys' long surcoats be appropriate? I'm afraid they don't really have any robes but their surcoats should be close enough."

"You recognized that we're wearing robes?" McGonagall asked.

"Of course." Michael said, standing up. "When you attend three or four fests a month, well, you learn to recognize medieval and renaissance clothes rather well."

"Their surcoats should blend in perfectly. As will most of their medieval garb." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily.

The boys and Edward stood, bowed to the professors and Guinevere, before heading to their rooms to change. While they were gone, Guinevere talked with the professors.

"So, I know that Michael comes from, as you say, 'Muggle' parents, but what about Harry? He knows so little about his biological parents. With what you've told us, I wouldn't be surprised if his relatives lied about them dying in a car crash…"

"What?! Lily and James Potter?! Die in a car crash?! That's ridiculous! Those Muggles actually told him that?" McGonagall shrieked.

"Well, yes. They told him that his parents died in a car crash and that Harry's scar is from that." Mrs. Willis replied.

"I think we should wait for Harry to get down here to explain how they died. However, to answer your question, Harry's parents were indeed a witch and wizard. Lily was a Muggleborn. Harry looks almost exactly like his father but he has his mother's eyes." Albus said taking a sip of his tea.

It was at that moment that Michael came down the stairs. His brown hair was still pulled back but his outfit was different. He wore a gold colored top and brown pants, over which was a long dark red surcoat and on his feet were a pair of dark brown boots.

"Harry'll be down shortly." Michael said, sitting next to his mother. As Michael said, Harry was down just a few minutes later. He wore a black top and black pants, over which was a silver/grey surcoat with a black design reminiscent of the elfish garb from the 'Lord of the Rings' trailing up the left side of the front, his high black boots on his feet. Edward followed behind moments later, wearing a brown top and pants, with a hunter green surcoat with gold trim and brown boots. Guinevere had been wearing a plain medieval style dress to begin with. The chemise was an earthy brown and the over dress was the same hunter green as her husband's surcoat and had a gold trim, and she wore a pair of simple brown ankle boots.

"I see you are already. Before we leave, I believe that there is something we should discuss. It's about your biological parents, Harry." The boy stiffened, then relaxed. "Your parents attended Hogwarts as well, you know."

"No, I didn't." Harry said, somewhat coldly.

"They did. Many years ago, a wizard turned to evil. He called himself 'Voldemort' and his followers were called 'Deatheaters'. People were so afraid of Voldemort that they refused to call him by name. Voldemort killed many men and women who stood in his way and your parents were among his victims. He came to your house in Godric's Hollow on Halloween 1981. He killed them, and then, he tried to kill you. It is my belief that your mother's love is what saved you that night, Harry, for the curse was turned back on him, leaving you with that scar. Voldemort vanished and many believe he is dead. Personally, I believe that he is still out there, not dead, but not truly alive either. Because you survived that particular curse, people in the wizarding world hail you as the 'Boy-who-lived' and their savior." Dumbledore's eyes were sad as he brought his tale to a close. Harry on the other hand, looked thoughtful, before speaking.

"You said that I survived a curse." Albus nodded. "Which one?"

"Ah, Harry, it is one of the three Unforgivable curses, the Killing Curse." Albus answered.

"Your story, it answers a lot of questions. It explains the green light and the cruel laughter but I don't understand how a world of adult wizards can look towards an eleven-year-old boy as their savior." He said.

"Alas, people often place their hopes on the future. Something had happened that night that has never happened before, Harry and you were at the center of it, so they chose you."

"That doesn't mean it makes much sense but I understand their reasoning. Let's go then, shall we?" Harry stood, before turning to help his mum up.

"Mr. Potter, Harry, if you'd like to know more about your parents, as their former head of House, I'd be happy to tell you."

"Thank you, professor." Harry said.

"We will need to go to Arabella's place and floo to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Arabella? You can't mean Mrs. Fig! With all the cats and the house that smells like cabbage?" Harry asked.

"Yes, yes, the same." Albus said, "This way."

And so they followed.

It was a few minutes later that they stepped out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. After dusting off their clothing, they followed the three professors out to the brick wall. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and tapped the bricks in a pattern that both boys memorized.

"Our first stop will be Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Then it will be on to purchase your school supplies." Albus said with a smile.

The boys nodded before they all hurried down the street. Albus and Severus both bowed out of the group to purchase different things needed for the school year, leaving the Willis' and Harry with Minerva.

Within Gringotts were many witches and wizards, and goblins. They stopped at an open desk and Minerva pulled a key out of her pocket.

"Mr. Potter would like to make a withdrawal from his account." She said primly. The goblin took the key, and peered down at Harry for a moment.

"Very well. Griphook!" He called and another goblin turned. "Griphook will take you there." They followed the stoic creature to a mine cart and one stomach-jolting ride later, stood in front of a large door.

"Stand back." Griphook said as the door swung open slowly. Inside were piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins. Michael whistled.

"Could probably buy the crown jewels and still have some left, Harry." He said. Harry grinned and handed him one of the bags wordlessly.

"You might want to grab more of the silver than anything, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said. "The gold ones are Galleons, the silver are Sickles, and the bronze are Knuts. There are seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle."

The boys loaded their bags up and then left. Moments later they stood blinking in the sun, still somewhat dizzy from the carts.

"This way, please." And they followed Professor McGonagall to a store called 'Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions'.


	3. Chapter 3

Please enjoy Brothers in Arms!

(I don't own Harry Potter, so don't sue!)

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"Hogwarts, dearies?" A plump witch in purple robes asked, as they entered the shop.

"Yes, ma'am." Harry said, poking his brother in the arm.

"This way. There's another young man being fitted right now as well. Oh, hello Minerva, wonderful to see you again."

"And you, Marigold." Professor McGonagall said, sitting primly in a chair. Guinevere sat next to her and picked up a magazine while Edward accompanied the boys to the back.

"Up on the stools, dears, that's right." Madam Malkin directed. "Jessica, Lilliana, will you hem these robes while I finish with the Malfoys?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Of course" Jessica was a slight, blonde woman, with blue green eyes wearing burgundy robes. Lilliana had a more athletic build, purple hair and black eyes wearing teal colored robes.

"Hello," came a bored, drawling voice, "Hogwarts, too?" the blonde boy on the stool next to Harry asked.

"Yes." Harry answered.

"I'm going myself. Say, your parents were our kind, right?" He asked.

"My biological parents were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean. However, my parents, as in the people who raised me, are not." Harry replied, a slight bite in his voice. Malfoy didn't seem to notice it.

"To bad. You'll be at a disadvantage. Muggle-born children always are."

"Indeed?" said Michael, trying to keep Harry from making much of a reply. "I don't see how that would have a terribly bad effect on a person's ability to learn, their parentage. That's inane, and silly."

"Inane and silly mean the same thing, Michael. By using both in that instance you're being redundant." Harry chided, before turning to Malfoy. "Perhaps, sir, you should learn the virtues of a closed mouth? As it is, you have insulted the people who took me into their home out of the goodness of their hearts, as well as my brother in arms. I would be well within my rights, as an honorary member of the house of Willis, to pummel you. However, taking your age and lack of knowledge in 'Muggle' customs of honor, I'll pardon your transgressions and continue on with my business." Harry turned back to Michael, leaving two nearly slack-jawed Malfoys behind him. Lilliana snickered slightly as she adjusted the hem on his robes.

"Well, that's finished, Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you." Mr. Malfoy said, before turning to Edward. "What he said, was it true?"

"Yes. When issuing a challenge or a reprimand, Harold is nothing if not polite, stern, to the point, and accurate in all he says. He doesn't mince words. By 'Muggle' customs of honor, Harold had every right to do one of two things, he may demand a gentleman's duel with the weapon of his choosing, or he may settle the matter with his fists and no challenge. The later is considered a far more common way of settling things, but when the offender does not know how to properly handle the weapon of choice, it is used."

"Of course." Harry said, as he and Michael joined their father.

"I'm Lusious Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco." Draco nodded when his father mentioned him.

"I'm Edward Willis, and these are my boys, Michael, and Harold."

"He did say he was adopted, no?" Mr. Malfoy said, looking at Harry.

"If you're curious, please, just ask. My name is Harry Potter, though now I go by Harold Willis." Harry bowed at the waist, a hint of wry cynicism in his voice.

"Harry Potter?" The elder Malfoy arched a brow while the younger tried hard not to openly gape. "You must forgive Draco, he is impudent, and many of his young friends have- unsavory ideals, if you will."

"It is generally a reflection on the parents what a child says. Even if those are not your ideals, Mr. Malfoy, they certainly do you no credit. If my boys made such friends, connections in life or no, they would not be allowed in my house. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a good deal more to do today." Edward Willis bowed and lead the boys out to where their mother sat with Professor McGonagall. Liliana coughed violently to hide her mirth at seeing Malfoy, one of the many students at Hogwarts who had made life difficult for Muggle-borns such as herself, being put in his place by an eleven year old and his Muggle guardian.

As the group proceeded down the street, the boys swiveled their heads this way and that trying to see all the shops, much to their professor's amusement. In Flourish and Blots they purchased their course books, as well as a few extras on Harry's part. Having been denied books by the Dursleys, and then given them so freely by the Willis', Harry was quite the voracious reader. Among his chosen reading materials was a book on wizard etiquette, a few additional history books, 'So you've found out you're a wizard' the muggle-born's guide to the wizarding world, a collection of wizarding folklore, and a book on magical sword smithery. Michael picked up a wizard comic book and they left the store. In Eeylop's Owl Emporium they purchased two owls, one for each boy. Harry left with a gorgeous snowy female while Michael had a large male screech owl. A stop at the apothecary showed the boys familiarity with medieval medicine and alchemy as most of the ingredients were named off without hesitation, as well as their 'supposed' uses, which were actually correct. A walk down to the stationary shop saw both boys with a sheave of never ending parchment, two very fine quills each (for correspondences), and a never out ink pot, black for Harry and a deep scarlet for Michael. At Florien Fortescue's ice cream parlor they meet up with Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore when they all took a break from shopping, while Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape told them about Hogwarts and explained Quidditch.

"Harold'll probably take to that like a duck to water." Michael said, laughing as he took a bite of his sundae.

"What makes you so sure of that, Michael? Perhaps you will take to it well." Harry said, idly turning the page in his etiquette book.

"Because you always take to sports well!"

"Not always. I still can't play rugby well at all. And cricket is entirely yours and Dad's thing." Harry said, moving his glasses back up his nose.

"True. But for the most part, you do great at sports." Michael said, stealing a bite of his brother's caramel toped sundae.

"I'm sure you will do just as well as I do, Michael." Harry said, ending the subject abruptly.

A stop in another store saw them with their scales, cauldrons, and phials, leaving only the wand on their list.

JADJDJDIJA


	4. Chapter 4

Hello! This has not been betaed yet! I'm sorry it took so long. I was working on a joint story with a friend. I need help with a good name for it, so if you'd like to help, just message me. I'll be uploading the first two chapters under the title "Gryffindor and Slytherin", so please help me.

Also, I don't own Harry Potter (like I'd be on fanfiction if I did).

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Olivander's was a decrepit looking old building with faded green paint and peeling gold letters reading 'Olivander's: makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.' It was hard to believe that this was the place to get the finest wands, but the professors all agreed, if on nothing else, this was the place. Guinevere cringed. Though not a neat freak by any means, the dust covered display in the window and the peeling letters gave her a compulsive urge to clean that she'd only felt in Michael's room till now.

"Has that wand ever moved?" Snape asked, eyeing the wand sitting on a purple pillow in the window display.

"I do not believe it has, Severus. It was there when I bought my wand." Professor Dumbledore said, shaking his head in mirth as he opened the door.

A little bell rang out, and from the back came a queer man with thin wispy grey hair and eerie blue grey eyes.

"Harry Potter." He wheezed, "I wondered when I would be seeing you. It seems like only yesterday your mother was in here, buying her first wand, maple 12 ½ inches with a single unicorn tail hair, good for charms. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand, good for transfiguration. I say he favored it, but really, it's the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter." He looked past him and spotted Professor Snape. "Severus! Severus, my boy! Ebony with unicorn tail hair! Excellent for curses and counter curses!"

"Yes." Professor Snape drawled in reply. "Defense was my best subject, though just barely, over potions."

"Indeed! Now Mr. Potter, step here. Which is your wand arm?" Olivander asked as a tape measure sprang to life.

"I'd suppose my right arm, as it is predominant." Harry said, holding it out for the tape measure. Michael watched in amazement as the tape measure measured the distance between Harry's nostrils.

"That will do!" Olivander shouted, coming out of the back with a box. "Try this one." And so Harry did, and he tried the next, and the next. With each wand he tried, Olivander became more and more excited. "Tricky customer, eh? Don't worry, we will find the right one!" And yet another was offered, and another. Then Olivander stopped. He looked at Harry, and then at the shelf. "Perhaps, perhaps." He pulled it off the shelf and handed it to Harry.

"Try this one. An odd combination, Holly and Phoenix feather, very unusual. Try it!" Harry took the wand; he felt a strange warmth in his hand.

"Go on, give it a wave!" Olivander cried. Harry waved it and red and gold sparks burst out of the end, like New Year's fire works.

"Bravo, Harold!" Michael cheered as his parents clapped appreciatively.

"I told you we would find the right one." Olivander said, setting the wand on the table and starting on Michael. "It is curious, though…never mind."

"What's curious?" Harry asked, suspicion and a threat lacing his voice.

"It is curious, Mr. Potter, that you should be destined for this wand, when it's brother, why it's brother gave you that scar."

Harry was silent as his brother got his wand, Oak with the heartstring of a Welsh Green.

Later…

"Harold, dear, are you alright?" Guinevere asked as the elder of her two boys pushed his food around the plate.

"I'm fine, mum. Just a little tired, that's all." Harry replied, before taking a bite of his food.

Guinevere smiled. As his mother, though maybe not by blood, she knew Harry better than anyone. She made a note to offer the proper reassurances when they got home. Though Harry had said he was fine, after learning that his wand had a brother and that the brother wand had cast the spell that killed his parents, Guinevere knew that Harry, with his quick mind and understanding of human nature, would be worried about the repercussions it could have.

"Well, I suppose it is time for you all to be going home." Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. "We will see you on the first of September. Here are your tickets, boys." He handed them two envelopes, inside which were tickets.

"Platform 9 and ¾?" Michael asked, perplexed.

"Yes, you run at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. It seems strange, but you don't think we'd let the muggles see our children getting on the train for school with their owls when we don't let them know we even exist, do you?"

Both boys shook their heads. It had been a long day and when Harry climbed into his bed that evening, he fell asleep within a moment. September 1st was a long way off, it seemed.


	5. Chapter 5

When Harold awoke the next morning, his first inclination was to believe that the Professors' visit and Diagon Alley were all just a marvelous dream. However an insistent hoot drew his bleary eyes to the windowsill, where there perched a large Tawny owl holding a newspaper. He had nearly forgotten that he'd subscribed to the Daily Prophet, though he wasn't sure how long he'd keep the subscription, it seemed a bit biased.

After paying the owl his five Knuts for delivery, Harry quickly dressed and made his way downstairs. It was still quite early, but already Mr. and Mrs. Willis were up. Michael, on the other hand, was enjoying the fact that it was the Summer Hols by sleeping in till around ten or so.

Once downstairs, Harry began his usual morning regime. One hour of Tai Chi, followed by breakfast, then to the stables to give Spartacus his daily brushing, one hour of horse back riding, then back inside to read. Unsurprisingly, his first choice of book was _A History of Magic_. After an hour or so of reading that, wondering the entire time why the Wizarding world was so backwards about certain things_ (I mean honestly, werewolves? A menace to society? Only if you force them to be.)_, Harry desided he needed a break, so he quickly jogged out to one of the sheds. Inside was a working forge and Harry's latest project, a small dagger. Harold had lovingly worked the blade, each hammer stroke being laid against the steel with perfect precision as the dagger took form. A gentle, curving, leaf-like design trailed its way up from the tip of the blade, with several small runes running along the vine-like lines. The hilt was a beautiful hardwood, smooth, yet easily handled. All that was left was the sheath.

Pulling a piece of maroon leather from where it was stored, Harold got to work. Soon enough the sheath was all but finished. The only thing missing was any decorative work to be done to the sheath. Harry chose his usual tools, the embossing tools, and began his work, slowly embossing the design of a castle tower, surrounded by trees, with ivy crawling up the sides.

It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon when Harry finally finished. He had worked through lunch without even realizing it. With the finished dagger hanging in the sheath at his hip, Harry walked back up to the house, waving at the employees he passed, and there were many of them. As he strode silently up the meandering path to the house, Harold marveled at the irony of it all. Here he was, the one who had supposedly defeated Voldemort, wielding the brother wand of the famed Dark Lord. He supposed, if Voldemort did come back, and he did defeat him, it would be a sort of poetic justice. That didn't make Harry any more comfortable with it. Not in the least. Now he had more and more things to keep firmly under wraps while at Hogwarts.

From what he had read in _A History of Magic_ his very odd talent of talking to snakes was seen as evil. His wand being the brother to Voldemort's was also sure to brand him as some sort of future Dark Lord, though the mere thought of such a thing was laughable. After all, who would he kill? Muggles? Not bloody likely. Wizards? That would be stupid. Werewolves? As if they don't have enough trouble. However, the facts remain, while a person may be smart, people are idiots. Which may very well be why his father sometimes contemplated moving their family to an island in the middle of the ocean, one that was otherwise uninhabited. Frankly, Harry had to agree.

This was not the only thing that was bothering him, though. McGonagall had given Harry a picture that showed his parents and their friends on the day that they graduated from Hogwarts. So, where were all these people? He had obtained directions to the nearest public Magical Library from Snape (who seemed to be a decent person, if one could over look the snappiness) and had descided to visit it as soon as possible to look for these people. According to his parents, they could go tomorrow. Maybe then he'd know why something didn't seem right.

That Night…

Guinevere walked into the room of her eldest son, Harold. Though she did not carry him in her womb for nine months, or change his nappy, or pace the floor with him, as she had with Michael, he was still her child, and no one knew him better. Which is why she was there, to comfort him as she had not had to in many years.

Of all the members of the Willis household, Guinevere was the most knowledgeable about human nature, which in that family was saying something. She knew what her son was worried about, and in truth, she was worried about it as well. She had read numerous books that mentioned her son, and he was not what they expected. Harold was a leader, yes, but he was, well, if she had to compare him with some one, then Elrond or Aragorn from _The Lord of the Rings_ would be closest. He was wise beyond his years, though somewhat mischievous at times and had an affinity with nature that often she wondered if he was one of the Silvian elves Tolkien described in his books. He was calm, both warrior and scholar. It was at moments such as these in which she could truly understand how children were once treated as small adults. Harry, and on occasion Michael, could be just as mature as most adults, and just as dangerous. Oh, they still had much to learn, but they could certainly hold their own.

Now though, Guinevere had more important things to worry about.

"Harold, dear."

"Oh, Hi Mum. I'll be in bed soon as I've finished this page." Harry said, looking up from _Hogwarts: A History_.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Regarding your current worries about being branded as the next Dark Lord." Guinevere said, cutting right to the heart of the matter as she settled herself on the edge of her son's bed. She noticed, as only she ever could, the slight, almost imperceptible stiffening of his shoulders, the only indication to his discomfort with the subject. "You know, when we adopted you, I wondered if my relationship with you would be different from my relationship with Michael, and I suppose, in some ways, it has, but that is because of your personalities, not because you were adopted. You are as much my son as Michael is, and I love you both equally. These people, these- wizards- are expecting someone very different from the boy I know and love, and quite frankly, they don't have any right. You may very well have been born Harry Potter, but you will always be my Harold, and that means that you will walk into that school with you back straight, ready to face the proverbial dragon, as you always have. It's in your nature, though whether that is from your biological family or us, I do not know, nor do I care. All that matters to me is that you remember, so long as you are yourself, you will always win."

At some point during her speech, she had wrapped her arms around him, and as he had always done when needing comfort, he had curled into her, a forceful reminder that no matter how mature he may be, or how old he may grow, he needed support just as much as any one else. They sat there together, mother and child, until at last, Guinevere tucked her sleeping child in after removing his reading glasses and placing them on the bed side table. With one last fond look, she turned out the light, and shut the door behind her as she headed to her room. All would be well in the household tonight. JADJDJDIJA


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the summer passed and all to soon September 1st arrived. After packing and unpacking and re-packing again, finally everything was loaded and everyone was ready. Dressed casually, the Willis family loaded up and drove off to King's Cross Station, while in the back the boy played chess with a travel chess set.

It wasn't twenty minutes later that the family arrived. After loading up the carts with trunk and owl, both boys followed their parents into the crowded station and to the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten.

"Okay then boys, let's go." Guinevere said, and she followed Harry through the barrier as Michael and Edward followed after. Both boys closed their eyes, not in fear, but for the surprise. Sure enough, when they opened their eyes they gasped. There, billowing steam, sat a brilliant red and black train. A sign hanging from the platform said "Platform 9 ¾" Parents and children bustled around, calling out greeting or farewells, promising to write and send goodies. A round faced boys was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad." To an elderly woman who replied with an exasperated "Oh, Neville." A family came through barrier behind them of redheads. Six in total, four boys, their mother, and a girl.

"Well," Said Edward, "let's get you boys settled in a compartment, shall we?"

Working together, the family soon loaded the two trunks, two owls, and two small messenger bags into a compartment at the back of the train. Mrs. Willis then proceeded to brush both boys off before giving them each a hug and a kiss. Mr. Willis patted his boys on the back.

"I'm very proud of both of you. And remember, your mother and I love you both, and expect updates every week from at least one of you." Edward said.

"Look out for each other, and remember your manners." Guinevere said, somewhat misty eyed. "I love both of you so much. Take care, and try not to get into trouble."

And with that, Mr. and Mrs. Willis got off the train, passing two of the red heads, twins from the looks of it and stood on the platform waving them off. The small redheaded girl ran after the train, laughing and crying, while one of the twins promised to send her a Hogwarts toilet seat.

"It never really gets any easier." The plump, homely red haired woman next to them said, as she watched the train disappear around the bend.

"Were those your boys?" Guinevere asked, as the little girl returned to her mother's side, looking dejected.

"Yes, that was four of them. My eldest two have graduated already. I take it your Muggles? My name is Molly. Molly Weasley. This is my daughter, Ginny." She said, extending her hand. Guinevere shook it gently.

"I'm Guinevere Willis, and this is my husband, Edward. Our two boys were on that train. I don't know what we'll do with all the quite that will be at home without them."

"I know what you mean." Molly said, running her fingers through her daughter's hair. "With out the boys at home it's impossibly quite. The worse part is, come next year it will be even quieter at home with Ginny headed off as well. My youngest boy, Ron, this is his first year. I can't help but worry he'll get into trouble or something. Mind you, Hogwarts is the safest place on earth."

"But that doesn't really make you worry any less." Guinevere finished, knowing exactly how Molly felt. "Would you like to come over and have some tea?"

"I don't want to intrude." Molly said, as she idly braided Ginny's hair.

"Oh, it's no trouble. It would give us a chance to talk, and Edward and I could learn more about the wizarding world and such."

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in it. Arthur won't be home till 5 at the earliest. One day, you'll have to come by for dinner." Molly said, as they walked through the barrier and into the Muggle world.

"Oh, I'd like that very much."

Meanwhile, Michael and Harry were settling down in the compartment.

" It's going to be odd, not having Mum and Da around." Michael commented, as he pulled out a deck of cards and began setting up a game of solitaire.

"Of course it will be. This will be our longest time away from home yet. And the longest time away from Mum and Dad. It's bound to take some time to adjust to." Harry sighed as he set Hippocrates on the seat next to him. "We'll be back there at Christmas time, with out fear."

"I suppose you're right." Michael said, moving cards from one pile to the next while Harry pulled out a book. With that, the brothers readied themselves for a comfortable silence.

Unfortunately, this was not to be.

"Excuse me, is this seat empty? All the other compartments are full."


	7. Chapter 7

"Excuse me? Is this seat empty? Everywhere else is full." A red-haired boy with freckles asked, having opened the door to the compartment.

"Sure" Michael said, moving his cloak off the seat so the boy could sit down.

"Thanks. I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley." The boy sat down with a weak smile.

"I'm Michael Willis, and that's my brother, Harold. It's nice to meet you." Michael said, pulling out some candy from his bag. "Do you want a peice?"

Ron stared. "What sort of candy is that?"

"Muggle candy." Harry answered him, closing his book and taking a Mars Bar from his brother. "Shame we don't have any soft serve. We could have a ninety-nine.*"

"Wow, Muggle candy. So the two of you are Muggle born? What's it like?" Ron tried very hard not to stare, but he couldn't help his curiousity.

"It's nice enough. There's not magic or anything, but with our family it's not a big issue. We've got each other...it's all we really need." Michael shrugged, handing Ron some gummy worms.

Meanwhile, at Willis Manor......

"My word, you have a lovely home!" Molly gasped as they approached the manor.

"Thank you. Edward's great-grandfather had it built. Sometimes I wish we lived someplace smaller, it's just us and the boys, but we make it work." Guinevere said, with a smile as they got out of the car.

"I'm afraid our home is nothing like this, it's so small, and it's practiacally falling apart...." Molly trailed off as Guinevere linked arms with her.

"It doesn't matter. As long as there's love, it's heaven on earth." She smiled, dancing ahead of the group.

"Guinny is an angel come to earth." Edward said, obviously smitten with his wife. "Wouldn't matter if we didn't have a ha'pence* to our name, she'd still be happy as a lark."

"She's a nice woman, that's for sure." Molly said, as they finally settled in the kitchen to have a light lunch. Guinevere kicked the help out.

"I can cook, thank you." She said with a smile, as she began to bustle around the kitchen, making a simple but delicious luch of potatoe soup with some large, buttery rolls.

"So, you mentioned you have two boys?" Molly asked accepting the steaming bowl from Guinevere.  
"Yes, Harold and Micheal. My two little men." Guinevere smiled, maternal pride coming off of her in waves. "Of course, Harold's adopted and all, but it doesn't matter. He's still my child, just as much as Michael is."

"May I have a little more?" Ginny piped up, her bowl empty and roll gone. Guinevere smiled.

"Of course dear, help yourself! With the way my boys eat...." She laughed, "it's amazes me how thin they are with how much food they eat!"

Molly laughed along with her.

"I know what you mean. My youngest boy, Ronald, skinny as a bean pole, that one, and yet the way that boy eats! I swear he's a bottomless pit! And no manners! I know I taught him better."

"That's Michael. He get's hungry and manners go out the window. Harold's my little gentleman." Guinevere sighed, "Those two are different as can be and yet practically twins!"

"That's boys for you. You mentioned Harold was adopted?" Molly asked, trying not to say anything offensive.

"Yes. My dear Harold....you'd probably know him better as Harry Potter."

Hogwarts Express.....

"George gave me a spell to turn him yellow once." Ron said, talking about lifting his usless rat, Scabbers, up by his tail.

"Yellow?" Michael stared. "Why yellow?"

"Don' know, just what the spells supossed to be for." Ron shrugged. Harry looked at the rat.

"He kinda reminds me of this fat little robin we saw once. Just sitting, doing nothing. Scabber's is lucky he's a pet, or else he probably would have been eaten by now." Harry noted, before carefully biting into his flake*.

"Yeah, I know!" Ron said. He raised his wand, no doubt to try the spell out, when the compartment door slid open.

"Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost one." A girl with bushy hair asked, stepping into the compartment. Harry and Michael stood, years of etiquette kicking in.

"No, I don't recall seeing one. Perhaps we could keep an eye out?" Harry gave a small bow. "I'm Harold, and this is my brother, Michael, and our friend, Ron."

Hermione gave a small curtsey.

"I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to make your acquantience."

"Likewise." Said Michael, before he bent to pick up the book he'd knocked over, handing it back to his brother.

"Well, anyway, please, keep an eye out for it." Hermione said, before she bounced off, leaving the boys to settle back down.

"What was all of that about?" Ron asked, slightly wide-eyed.

"Proper manners. Mum drilled them into our heads years ago." Harold answered, as he cracked open the book to look at the title. "It's your's Michael. A Compendium of Pranks, by The Mauraders, published and edited by Mooney."

"Oh excelent!" Michael took the book with a small cheer. "Hey Ron, there's a spell in here that'll make Scabbers green with purple poka-dots!"

Scabbers squeaked and wiggled as Ron grinned.


	8. Chapter 8

Well, here's the next chapter. I'm sorry for the delay's on my stories. I've had the worst case of writer's block lately. My sister and I are currently working on re-writing G&S so that it flows better and Legacy has hit a snag. I've also got another Harry Potter fic in the works.

Anyway, without further ado, with apologise for the shortness, here is the next chapter!

* * *

"Well, that worked well!" Michael said, looking at the green rat, who squeaked miserably while munching on a crisp.

"Yeah!" Ron grinned, "He's not boring now, is he?"

"Hey Ron," One of the twins poked his head in.

"You settled in alright?" The other asked, peering over his twin's shoulder.

"Great! And look!" Ron held Scabbers up. "Michael found this neat spell to turn Scabbers green with purple spots!"

"Very nice. I'm Fred, by the way." He said, turning to where Michael and Harold sat. "Fred Weasley. And this is my twin, George."

"Cheerio!" George gave a mock salute.

Michael grinned, "I'm Michael, and this is my brother, Harold!"

Harry nodded in greeting before returning to his book.

"Well, it was nice meeting you two. We'll see you all at Hogwarts."

"Hopefully in Gryffindor!"

"It's the best, you know."

The door slid shut behind them as Michael turned to Harry.

"What could possibly be so interesting about that book." He asked. He was surprised at the mischievous grin that answered him.

"It's about animagus transformations. We won't be able to attempt it until third year, at least, but how amazing would it be to be able to transform into an animal?"

"Wicked!" Ron breathed, "I heard that one of our professors can turn into a cat!"

"So we're in agreement, then?" Michael asked, looking at them, "We become one with our inner animal, so to speak?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right now, we work on increasing our magical capabilities, later, we "become one", as you put it."

Michael pouted. "Kill-joy."

Willis Manor….

"Harry Potter?" Molly asked, patting a coughing Ginny on the back.

"Yes, his relatives were horrid people." Guin said, handing her a glass of water. "We couldn't just leave him with them. They stifled his creativity, they attempted to crush his very spirit! They're wretched beings!" Edward placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Now, Guin, dear, calm down. Harry is a wonderful young man. He's suffered no lasting damage from his short internment with the Dursleys."

"I know," She sighed, "I'm just worried. I've read those books! They're all expecting a child to save them. Granted, Harold is rather mature for his age, but even so!"

"What's he like?" Ginny piped up, eager to hear about her hero. Guin smiled.

"He's wonderful. He enjoys reading, but loves to play outside as well. Loves to learn, and very adventurous. He's always exploring something. Creative as well." Guin shrugged. " Of course, I've raised him, I'm going to think he's marvelous!"

Molly chuckled. "Don't I know it. Even my boys, though they're giving me gray hairs, are simple wonderful in my eyes. Comes from being a mother."

"Or father." Edward injected. "We fathers are allowed our pride in our progeny."

"Of course dear." Edward rolled his eyes at the distracted tone in his wife's voice as she and Molly began to discuss cooking.

The Express….

"So, chocolate frogs are enchanted to jump and come with trading cards of famous witches and wizards, Bertie Bott's really are every flavor, and licorice wands are too strong for me, though Harry seems to like them well enough." Michael said, as they shared extra sweets bought off the trolley.

"Maybe next year we can bring a picnic instead." Harry mused, nibbling a bit off the tip of the licorice wand. "You know, cold chicken, eggs, things of that nature."

"Sort of like the Wind in the Willows?" Michael asked, grabbing another frog.

"Precisely."

"What's that?" Ron asked, carefully biting into a jelly bean before smiling. Strawberry.

"It's a muggle book." Harry said, smiling. "Mum used to read it to us before bed when we were little."

Michael nodded, his mouth full of chocolate.

"Chew." Harry said, rolling his eyes at his brother. "We don't need you choking."

Michael glared slightly at Harry but did so anyway.

"My brother's are always telling me the same thing." Ron said.

"Well well, would you look at that." Michael said, peering out the door. Harry looked up and grimaced.

"Colluportus." He muttered, pointing his wand to the door. There was a funny squelching noise.

"What's that?" Ron asked, seeing the pale blonde outside attempt to open the door, only to give up after a moments struggle.

"Colluportus. A low-level locking spell." Harry sighed, "We've had the misfortune of meeting young Mr. Malfoy before. I'd rather not repeat the incident anytime soon."

"Nor would I." Michael added, "I thought you were going to deck the little ponce."

"I wish I had, Michael, I really wish I had."


End file.
